Lost & Found
by Harmne
Summary: Sequel to Balancing Act. The title says it all. #2 in Agreement series. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Lost & Found

Chapter 1

It was mid-afternoon, and I was at the bonds office. I'd stopped in to turn in a couple of small-paying body receipts and get my check, and had stayed to kill some time chatting with Connie and Lula. Connie forgot what she was saying mid-sentence a moment before I got a warning prickle down my back. Ranger had arrived.

He gave me a nod with his almost-smile. I returned it, attempting to copy his barely-there movements, making his lips quirk. It was pretty subdued but it was our usual public greeting of late, since things had settled down after the Agreement. So far we'd managed to keep things strictly between the three of us and even the nosy twins Connie and Lula hadn't caught on. I'm not sure how. Before, I might as well have taken out a billboard ad any time I got laid. Everyone seemed to know almost as soon as I did.

I wasn't complaining. I wasn't all that eager to explain the Agreement to my mother. I think Ranger must have issued a gag-order to his men, because secrets usually don't last long in the 'Burg, and ours has been going a few months now.

Ranger seemed to be in a good mood, greeting Connie and Lula and actually making some small talk as he turned in several body receipts. He'd just picked up two new files when his cell rang.

"Yo," he answered. A moment later he went suddenly, eerily, still. "When?" he bit out. Then he snapped the phone shut in his fist and his hand went white around it, crushing it until something inside it shattered. I heard the crack across the room at the couch where I sat.

For another long heartbeat he was completely still. So were Connie, Lula, and I. Something was radiating from him in waves, something frightening and feral.

When he turned abruptly his face had gone blank and his eyes were flat and expressionless. He took two steps to me and dropped the new files on my lap.

"I'll be out of town. Call Tank if you need anything." His voice matched his face – expressionless.

And he was out the door, the Turbo laying rubber in a very un-Ranger-like departure.

Connie and Lula remained silent and frozen for several minutes, then it was if someone had turned a switch back on. They started speculating in hushed voices as to what Ranger's phone call had been about. They'd never seen Ranger react like that before.

I hadn't either, but I'd seen that look before, and it wasn't good. Whatever the call had been about, someone was in deep shit. The last time I'd seen that look was the night Abruzzi committed 'suicide.' I was worried. It was bad.

I left quickly before Connie and Lula could start quizzing me, taking along Ranger's files. I drove a few blocks, stopped in a parking lot and called Joe, telling him about the call Ranger had gotten and his reaction. Joe's interpretation was much the same as mine, but he hadn't heard anything. He'd keep his ears open, he said, and let me know if he learned anything. I did the same, and hung up.

Worry and curiosity aside, there was nothing I could do but wait. I might as well use my time constructively. I headed home.

The files I'd inherited were not my usual breed of skips. I normally took the small-time offenders – the drunks, shoplifters, and minor assaults. Ranger took the rapists, murderers, first-degree assaults, etc. Not that I couldn't find those types of skips – I could. I just couldn't make the captures, at least not without Ranger's help. I'd learned the hard way not to try these types of takedowns alone.

So, for these two files I did what I do best, what I'm good at. I used my natural nosiness and intuitive hunches to get a handle on the FTAs, track them down and locate their hiding place. But I'd wised up and now called for one of Ranger's Merry Men to do the actual apprehension. I'd act as decoy to flush the skip out, and Ranger's guys would catch him. Usually I managed to escape relatively unscathed.

Over the next three days I located and helped take in both skips, with only minor scrapes and bruises to show for it. Hal and Lester had helped with one takedown, and Tank had come for the second. He'd also stayed to help me capture Andy Vanelli, a slippery 'Burg native that unfortunately had gone to school with me, and so knew who I was. But Andy saw Tank at his back door and came at me at the front instead, trying to escape by shoving me off the porch into some roses. He didn't get away, but the roses did more damage than both the 'dangerous' skips combined. Figures.

I tried to call Joe to touch base with him, but he'd gone out on assignment and I just got his voice-mail. A few hours later I got a text message back that all he'd heard was that a black Porsche had been clocked going over 120 mph headed toward the airport the afternoon of Ranger's disappearance, but that the officers in pursuit had lost it.

As we'd worked together I'd asked Tank and Hal and Lester if they'd heard anything from Ranger, or if they could tell me what had happened. Hal and Lester gave me stone faces – either they'd been told not to talk, or they really didn't know. Tank unbent enough to tell me Ranger was okay, and that he checked in once a day, but that was all he was allowed to say. I didn't push.

Late afternoon on the third day after Ranger's call, I'd just arrived back at the office with the second of Ranger's body receipts and the one of my own for Vanelli. The light had gone golden the way it did in fall just before evening, and things were quiet. I turned in my receipts and waited as Connie did the math and wrote my check, talking to Lula about her plans for the weekend. They were gathering up their things to close up the office, and I'd dropped my check into my bag and was headed out the door when the van stopped in the street.

It was a beat-up blue panel van generously spotted with rust. It stopped just short of being directly in front of the office, and I hesitated as the door shut behind me. I'd never be as alert as Ranger or Joe, but something about the van felt off. As I watched warily, the side door shot open and a man wearing a ski mask leaped out dragging a child by the back of her jacket. Girl, I thought, registering the long wavy chocolate-brown hair. Not very old, maybe ten at most. Her hands were bound and a gag was tied across her mouth.

I saw the gun in the man's hand and before I could think I was charging into the street, yelling. The gun swung toward me and I dodged as it went off, swinging my purse with all my strength at his head. He staggered and dropped the gun at the direct hit – my gun was in my bag, along with a full box of shells – and the girl took advantage and twisted free, taking off hell-bent around the back of the van and out of sight. I must have turned to see where she went because the punch caught me blind, just under my jaw. I went down like a rock. I heard Connie shout from the door and the man jumped back into the van and it peeled out without even waiting for the door to close.

I picked myself up off the ground and brushed the gravel off my ass as Connie and Lula ran over, both with guns in hand. My purse was spilling its guts onto the pavement. I caught the check just before the wind could snatch it, then I shoved my stuff back in the bag and turned to reassure Connie and Lula that I was okay.

"Who the hell was that?" Lula asked. Connie shook her head.

"No one I know. You see, Steph?"

"Just a nutcase, I think. I guess we were due – it's been a little quiet lately." For some reason my internal alarms were all going off. I didn't want to tell them about the little girl. If they'd seen her they'd already have said something. I wanted to find her, make sure she was okay, but I had a strong suspicion she wouldn't come out of hiding if there were three of us. Especially with Connie and Lula waving guns.

I reassured them I was okay, got in my car and drove around a three-block square. By the time I got back a few minutes later they were both gone.

Before I got out of the car I got my gun out of my bag, checked that it was loaded, and tucked it into the small of my back. It was uncomfortable but I wanted it close in case the van showed up again. I left my bag in the car and locked it, shoving the keys into my pocket. I wanted my hands free.

Looking up and down the street, I tried to think like a child. Where would I have run to hide? Where would a child feel safe? One way down the street was mostly small storefront offices, all closed for the day. The other way had a small publishing company, a small office building, the deli, and a bookstore, already closed. That left the alleys.

The one next to the office was dimly lit but completely bare of hiding spots. The alley on the other side of the street stretched back between a publishing company and an office building. It was narrow and dim but relatively clean as alleys go. Dumpsters sat against the buildings, with additional cans dotted along the length. A stack of wooden pallets sat by the publisher's dock; some discarded, sad-looking office furniture was piled near the other building. Lots of places to hide.

I started slowly down the center of the alley, talking quietly, doing my best to sound reassuring and non-threatening.

"The man in the van is gone. I won't hurt you; I will help you if I can. Do you need me to call someone? Are you hurt? I know you're scared – I was, too. My name is Stephanie. Can you hear me?"

I probably looked like an idiot to anyone passing by, but I kept walking and talking, searching with my eyes, not going too close to any of the possible hiding spots. I didn't want to spook her.

She was so still and so well hidden that I almost missed her. She was under the steps of the loading dock in deep shadows, pressed tight up against the steps and the brick wall of the building. She was motionless, absolutely still. It was sheer luck that I saw her.

I stopped about twenty feet away, slowly going down onto one knee. Her eyes never left me, but they were the only thing that moved. I could see her only faintly but I could see her eyes. Large and liquid and familiar. I felt my stomach drop. I knew those eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: **LOL!** I asked for opinions on whether I should give Joe equal time, and the answers were pretty much a unanimous "NO!" Poor Joe, you guys are mean! I guess for now his time with Stephanie will have to be just implied…_

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 2

Moving very slowly I pulled my cell phone off my belt and pressed speed-dial. He answered shortly, his voice tight. "Not--"

"Don't hang up," I interrupted quickly.

He gave a tight sigh. "I can't talk now, babe."

"Are you missing something? Because I just found something that looks like yours."

There was silence on the other end for a heartbeat, then he said something under his breath that I couldn't catch.

"Is she okay?" His voice sounded raw.

"I think so. She's scared, and she's got herself stashed where I can't reach her. Any suggestions?"

"Put your phone on speakerphone," he said.

I did as he bid and turned the volume up, then held it out toward the little girl. Ranger's voice came through loud and clear.

"Julia? Can you hear? It's me, _Chiquita_. Don't be afraid of Stephanie, she's a good friend of mine. She helps me all the time. Go with Stephanie. She will take care of you and keep you safe. Julia?"

The girl moved slightly, and then began to inch forward.

"Keep talking," I said just loud enough for Ranger to hear me.

"Julia," he said, and his voice softened but was filled with enough emotion to make my heart feel funny, "Listen to me. Stephanie is safe. She is my friend. She will take care of you."

By this time she'd crept to the edge of the dock, just barely in the shadows. I could see her hands at her face, and realized she was working to pull the gag out of her mouth. I winced for her. I knew firsthand that gags weren't fun. But she got it off and managed to speak.

"Dad?"

"I'm here," he answered immediately.

"Where are you?" Her voice was trembling a bit, but all in all I though she was handling this better than I was.

"I'm at your mom's. Go with Stephanie, honey. She will keep you safe, and I'll be there as soon as I can. Will you do that for me?"

Her eyes met mine and I tried to look protective. She nodded slowly. "Okay, Dad. Tell Mamma I'm okay."

"I will. I'll be there soon." He paused. "I need to talk to Stephanie now, okay? Don't worry."

"Okay."

I turned the speakerphone off and put the phone back to my ear. "I'm here."

"I'll be there in four hours. I owe you for this, Babe. Take her somewhere safe."

"We'll be waiting." He hung up. I did, too, more slowly.

The girl hadn't moved, and her eyes were still steady on me. I put the phone back in the clip on my belt.

"How did you know who I was?" she asked. "I've never met you."

"You have your dad's eyes," I answered simply. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and crawled awkwardly forward. I got up and moved to help her. It took me a few minutes to get the rope binding her hands untied, but I finally got it off. It didn't help that my hands were shaking.

Standing, Julia was about the same height as my younger niece. Small for the age I thought she was. Maybe her mother was small. It wasn't something I'd ever talked to Ranger about; I was still surprised he'd told me he had a daughter. I wasn't entirely sure what to say to her. Did she know her dad was Trenton's version of Batman?

"So, I take it you've had an interesting trip from Miami?" I asked, and she gave me a shaky grin.

"It was different." Oh, yeah. This was definitely Ranger's daughter.

I got her to the Jeep. She buckled herself into the passenger seat next to my big black bag and curled down, making herself small. I thought she probably felt vulnerable. I would have. Been there, done that.

"You did a good job of getting away from that man, and hiding. That was a good spot to hide," I said quietly.

"You found me," she pointed out.

"I'm lucky at finding people," I said. "Probably because I still think like a kid, and I remember where I would choose to hide."

"Where will you take me?" she asked after a moment.

There was really only one choice, and I was pretty sure that's what Ranger had meant, anyway.

"The safest place in town, Julia. Your dad's place."

She gave me a questioning look but didn't say anything.

"Are you hungry? I can go through a drive-thru on the way. Your dad doesn't keep much food around."

"Can we get hamburgers?"

"No problem."

I went through MacDonald's drive through and got burgers and fries and two large Cokes. Julia drank some of her Coke but made no move on the food. I drove quickly and turned into the garage of the RangeMan building, remoting the gate up and watching it close behind me as I pulled into the slot that was pretty much reserved for me.

We climbed out of the car. Julia had the drinks. I reached back in for my bag and the food, and as I stretched I felt a burning in my side. When I straightened with the stuff I glanced down at the black sweatshirt I had on. Low on the left side there was a small hole, and the fabric looked wet. Crap.

Now that I'd seen it, my side really started to ache. I didn't want Julia – or for that matter, any of the Merry Men – to see it. They'd get in a flap and I just wanted to get Julia inside.

I put my bag on my shoulder and held it over the spot on the sweatshirt with my elbow and steered Julia into the elevator, using the remote and pressing the button for the seventh floor. She looked at me curiously when I used my key on the apartment door.

"You have a key to my dad's apartment?" she asked.

"Yeah. Don't ask, it's a long, complicated story and your fries will get cold."

She gave me a long speculative look that nearly made me squirm, but she didn't ask any more questions. She was more like Ranger than I thought.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 3

I set our food out on the bar in the kitchen, thinking Julia would be more comfortable here than the dining table. I took the stool on the left to keep her on my right side. My left side was really starting to ache, and I knew I was going to have to look at it soon. I wanted to get Julia settled first. I thought about calling downstairs to tell them I was here but decided against it. Whoever was on watch would probably have seen me on the cameras and already reported to Ranger, anyway. I didn't know if anyone else knew about Ranger's daughter, except for possibly Tank, and I wasn't going to be the one that let that particular cat out of the bag.

It occurred to me as I watched Julia finish off her burger that I should probably see if I could get any useful information she might know before she went to sleep. Maybe even have her talk to a cop. It also crossed my mind that it'd be better all around if the kidnappers were in custody before Ranger got back to Trenton. They might live longer.

"Julia," I began tentatively. "Do you know much about what happened? Can you describe the man who had you?"

"I know a lot. Do you have some paper and a pencil?"

Well, hell. Where would Ranger keep that kind of thing? I checked a couple of kitchen drawers and found a small notepad and an ink pen.

"Actually," Julia continued as she picked at her fries, "I should probably tell a policeman. That's what Mamma and Dad always tell me. Are we in Trenton or Boston? Dad's mentioned a policeman in Trenton before, but I can't remember his name. Do you know anyone?"

"This is Trenton." Let me guess— "Was the cop's name Joe Morelli?" Did I want to know _why_ or _what_ Ranger had mentioned?

"Yeah, I think that sounds right. Do you know him?"

Yeah, you could say that. "I know him. I'll call him. Do you want me to take you to the police station, or would you rather have him come here?" Since Julia acted so mature and seemed to have a sensible head on her shoulders I gave her the choice.

She looked a little frightened at the thought of the police station. "Do you think he'd come here?"

"I think so." I flipped my phone out again and pressed another speed dial. "Hey, Joe," I said as soon as he answered. "Remember the phone call I told you about a few days ago?"

"Yeah. I haven't heard anything else, though. Have you?"

"I've found out a lot in the past hour, and I have someone that needs to talk to a cop. Can you come to the RangeMan building?"

"Sure. Give me a few minutes to get there. Where will you be?"

"Seventh floor. I'll either meet you in the garage or have one of the guys bring you up."

There was a little silence during which I remembered he didn't know about this apartment, then he said, "Okay."

I hope Ranger doesn't mind that someone else will know about this place. At least Joe can keep a secret.

"Joe will be here in a little bit." I said. I gave her the paper and pen. "Would you like to write anything down first so you don't forget?"

"Okay."

While Julia was thinking and writing, I called Tank's cell.

"Yo." I think all the Merry Men answer their phones the same way.

"Hey, Tank, it's me. Do you know Julia?"

"Yes."

"Good." I breathed a small sigh of relief. "Julia wants to tell a cop what she knows – her idea – so Morelli is coming over. Can you buzz him up the elevator, or have someone bring him up?"

"I'll go down and let him in the garage, and bring him up. Is she okay?"

"She's fine." I had to smile to myself, and added, "She's a lot like him, isn't she?"

Tank's reply was a short laugh before he hung up.

Julia had stopped eating or writing and looked on the verge of falling asleep sitting up.

"Are you finished eating?" I asked. She nodded. "Why don't you go rest on the sofa? If you go to sleep I'll wake you when Joe gets here, okay?"

She nodded, got down and headed straight for the sofa. She was probably asleep before she got her head down.

I tossed the trash and what was left of the fries but left the drinks on the counter. While I had a minute un-observed, I needed to see how bad the damage was to my side. I made a dash for the dressing room, grabbed a black t-shirt, and locked myself in the bathroom. Ranger kept a serious first-aid kit under the sink.

I had to take a deep breath before I could peel the sweatshirt and the tank underneath it off because they were partially stuck to me with dried blood. There was some blood on my jeans, too.

I told myself not to be a wimp and looked at my side. Ow. Ow, ow. Why hadn't I felt this? The bullet had grazed me just below the waist, leaving a long angry gash that looked almost like a really deep burn. Most of it had stopped bleeding until I pulled the shirt loose, but it was still seeping blood in the middle.

I cleaned most of the blood off the surrounding skin with a washcloth first, then I used an antiseptic from the kit to clean the wound. That hurt enough to make me light-headed and I had to sit on the toilet for a minute so the room would stop spinning before I could continue. Then I slathered antibiotic salve on a large gauze pad and taped it in place, hoping it wouldn't bleed any more.

Ranger's black t-shirt was big enough to hide the bulk of the bandage and long enough to cover the bloody spot on my jeans. With a little luck and the distraction of Julia, Joe wouldn't notice anything except that I was wearing Ranger's shirt.

I cleaned up my mess and rolled my discarded shirts up, cleanest parts out. I put the bundle beside my purse in the kitchen. I started to the living room to check on Julia when there was a soft knock on the door.

It was Joe, looking curious. Tank was waiting in the door of the elevator. He gave me a nod and stepped back, letting the doors close. I interpreted that as Tank-speak for "call me if you need me."

I motioned Joe inside and closed the door. Joe glanced around and was already starting to frown when he turned back to me. When he saw the t-shirt the frown deepened. I forstalled his questions by jumping right in.

"The call Ranger got was evidently about a kidnapping in Miami."

"How do you know?" he asked, successfully sidetracked.

"I sort of ran into the kidnappers," I explained. "The girl who was kidnapped is the one who needs to talk to you."

Pointing Joe into the kitchen, I went to wake Julia. She woke fairly easily, rubbed her eyes and stretched before getting to her feet.

"Joe," I started the introduction to get his attention, "This is Julia. Julia, this is Joe Morelli, Trenton Police Department."

Joe took a good look at her and his eyebrows shot up. After a moment he gave me a questioning look; I nodded. I hadn't been sure Joe would recognize the resemblance so quickly. It certainly saved a lot of explaining, although the look he gave me meant he'd be asking me more questions later.

I'd never seen Joe around many kids, but he was good with Julia. He gave her a smile and suggested we sit back down, then he took out a small voice recorder and explained that he would record everything. He gave her a grin and his badge when she asked to see his ID – just to be sure, she said. Then he got down to business.

He asked for her name and gave his information for the recording. Her last name was the same as Ranger's, which answered one of my many un-voiced questions. She gave her mother's name and stepfather's name, her address and phone numbers. Her mother was a Dade county commissioner, and her stepfather was an assistant district attorney. Her father, she said, had businesses in Miami, Trenton, and Boston, and did Joe know him?

That got me a dark look, but Joe told her yes.

Joe gently led her through everything she remembered about her abduction, the kidnappers, their vehicle, etc. She really did know a lot. She'd kept her wits about her and paid attention.

One man's name was Diego Sanchez, the other was named Edward something that sounded like 'matches'. They'd grabbed her during a school outing, which meant they'd probably been following her or planned ahead. The van was a blue Econoline, a 1987 model with lots of rust, Dade County Florida plates, and the taillights were out.

How did she know they were out? She'd unplugged them when they'd left her alone in the back. The wires were easy to reach because the interior had been gutted.

She even gave a fairly detailed description of both men including a tattoo one had on his forearm.

There were more questions that needed to be asked, but Julia was leaning heavily on me and yawning. The poor girl probably hadn't gotten much sleep in the past three days. Joe noticed and called a halt, telling Julia that she'd done an excellent job and had given him plenty to work with to get started. He would need to ask more questions but they could wait until later, and that if she remembered anything else to write it down for him.

Julia surprised both of us when she thanked Joe and held out her hand to shake his. He accepted the gesture with all due seriousness, then shot me a rueful grin over her head.

"Do you want to go to bed? Or would you like to take a shower first?" I asked softly as Joe finished writing something and reached for his phone.

"Shower first," she mumbled.

I led her into the bathroom, got her a towel and Ranger's robe. She didn't seem to like the smell of the Bulgari shower gel so I showed her the drawer Ella had filled with travel-sized shampoos, shower gels, etc. Another one of Ranger's t-shirts would do for her to sleep in. I was pretty sure my underwear wouldn't fit her – and besides, I didn't think I wanted her to know I had underwear at her dad's place – so I told her if she'd leave her underwear outside the door I'd wash it out for her, and to yell if she needed anything. Then I left her to it.

Joe was waiting in the living room.

"So, is this Ranger's place?"

"One of them – the only one I know of."

"Is this where you were hiding during the Slayer thing?" When I nodded, he asked, "How did you get in? The security seems pretty tight in this building."

"When Ranger left his truck for me to use, he left this key and fob on the chain. I back-tracked the GPS in the truck and figured out how the security fob worked."

Joe just looked at me, and I knew there were a dozen things going through his head that he wanted to say. Like that Tank and the others had to have known I was here, had Ranger known? And what happened after Ranger came back? But he didn't voice any of them, settling for "You realize that wasn't an accident."

I smiled, both for Joe's restraint and his quick take on what it had taken me a while to figure out. "Yes, I know. I guess he knew I would figure it out if I needed to."

"Is he on the way back from Miami?"

"He said he'd be here in four hours, and it's been nearly two."

"She's a sharp kid. With what she's given us we might catch these guys before the night is over. The taillights thing was really clever. How old is she?"

"Ten, I think."

"How long have you known?" His question was one I'd expected.

"A year and a half, maybe two years. He told me she was eight, and lived in Miami with her mother."

He reached up and tugged on a strand of my hair, bending down to give me a quick kiss. "I'll be going. Ranger should call me or bring her in to finish up a more formal statement later. Call me if you need anything."

I walked him to the door and went back to check on Julia. The shower was running and her panties and little sport-bra were outside the door. I washed them out and used the hair dryer from the dressing room to blow-dry the panties, then started on the bra. She came out of the bathroom before I was done and we moved to the bedroom. Although the elastic was still slightly damp around the waistband of the panties, she put them on anyway.

"Do you want me to dry your hair a little, or do you just want to sleep? R—Your dad should be back in a couple of hours."

She gave me an odd look. "You don't call him Ricky, do you?" Even tired, she managed to sound disapproving.

Ricky? Hmm. "Never," I assured her. I'd used the name his family used – Rico – a time or two, but never 'Ricky." I preferred to stay on Ranger's good side.

She wanted her hair dried, so I climbed on the bed, she sat cross-legged in front of me, and I started the dryer. Her hair was long and thick. Although it was much lighter in color than Ranger's, the texture was the same -- silky soft. I ran my fingers through it gently, working the tangles out, careful not to pull. When it was reasonably dry I turned the dryer off. Her eyes were closed and she was swaying.

I pulled the covers back on the huge bed and tucked her in, but when I moved away her voice stopped me.

"Where are you going?" She sounded younger now, and vulnerable.

"I'm going to watch TV and wait for your dad. I'll be right outside on the sofa. Is that okay?"

She opened her eyes briefly, as if to see if I was sincere. "Okay," she said finally.

I made myself a nest of pillows and turned the TV on low. After about half an hour I checked on Julia. She was curled on her side, completely conked out. I watched her sleep for a few minutes but she didn't show any signs of nightmares. Ranger's daughter was a pretty resilient kid.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Don't expect 2-chapter posts all the time. I just had a few nights of insomnia and the story was going good… It probably won't happen very often. _

_By the way, so far only one person wants equal time for Joe, poor guy. It's okay with me, though, **I'd** rather play with Ranger!_

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 4

Back on the sofa I think I dozed for a little while, but I woke when I heard the key in the door. I had my hand underneath a pillow on my gun when I turned to see who came in.

It was Ranger, of course. I seriously doubt anyone else could make it to this door without some sort of major confrontation. Except for me, but I was sort of the exception. Ranger was followed by a small woman that had to be Julia's mother, and another man.

I stood up, uncertain what I should do. "Julia's asleep in the bedroom. She's fine, just tired."

They all headed for the bedroom and disappeared inside. I understood. They needed the reassurance of seeing her for themselves. I heard the murmur of voices, a soft cry of joy from Julia, more talking. After a while Ranger came back out and caught me straightening the pillows and picking up my gun. I quickly stuck it in the back of my jeans. The look on his face was unreadable as he came over to me and took my hands.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes taking in the scratches on my arms. I'd forgotten about those.

"I'm fine. I got scratched up when a skip pushed me into a rosebush this morning."

His lips quirked. "Did you get him?"

"Yeah. I tripped him and took him down with me…face-first."

He smiled and shook his head slightly, then he sobered again. "What happened tonight? How did you find Julia? She says you saved her."

"Actually, she saved herself. I just provided the distraction." I gave him a small grin. "It must be hereditary."

He drew me down onto the sofa to sit beside him and asked me to start at the beginning. I told him about seeing the van stopping in front of the office and the man pulling a tied-up girl out. I told him about clobbering the man with my purse, gun and bullets and all. How I had gone around the block so Connie and Lula, who hadn't seen the girl, would leave, then gone back to look for her. How she'd hidden so well I almost hadn't found her.

"How did you know she was my daughter?" he asked softly.

"Look in the mirror, Ranger. She's got your eyes."

He just looked at me for a moment, then he cut his eyes toward the bedroom and I knew he was trying to decide what he could tell me. I saved him the trouble.

"You don't have to tell me. Julia has already told me, and Joe."

"What?" His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Her idea. She said her Mamma and **_Dad_** always told her if something happened she should tell a policeman. I called Joe; he came here and talked to her, recorded a statement. She's smart, Ranger, and very observant. Joe was impressed. She gave him descriptions of the men and their vehicle, enough information to put out a detailed APB."

Ranger still looked pissed, but before he could say anything his cell phone vibrated. He looked at the caller ID and shot me a dark look before answering.

It was Joe.

Ranger listened for several minutes, speaking only a word here or there. Then he told Joe to start over so I could hear, too, turned on the speakerphone and held out the phone.

"_I put out the APB, then I called the FBI since it was a kidnapping that crossed state lines. About an hour ago a FBI team showed up with Bunchy tagging along. Then I got a call that a couple of state troopers picked up two men in a blue Econoline just south of Trenton. They were pulling it over for no taillights and the driver tried to out-run them. The van crashed and they arrested the two men. On the way to the jail one of the troopers recognized them as matching the APB, and called it in._

_It turns out these two guys work for some 'connected' developers in Miami that were unhappy with Ms. Martin and a couple other commissioners for blocking some new project. They decided to do their boss a favor and take out the kid, make it look like an absentee-father kidnapping with a tragic ending." _He stopped to chuckle._ "If they'd only known what they were getting into! Anyway, they're stuck now and the Feds are barbequing them. The bosses are suspected of organized crime and they're offering Tweedledum and Tweedledee witness-protection programs if they can provide any major evidence against them. What a mess."_

"It sounds like everything's being taken care of," Ranger remarked in a neutral tone.

Joe picked up on it. _"We're trying. The Feds are actually keeping me in the loop, so I'll be able to keep an eye on things. Anyway, at some point in time there will need to be a more formal statement taken from Julia, and they'll probably want one from Steph, too."_

"Set it up for sometime tomorrow. I'll call in the morning."

"_Okay."_

Ranger flipped his phone shut. His new phone, I noticed in passing, was a different model than the one he'd crushed. I kept my eyes on it in an attempt to avoid a confrontation with him.

One of his hands still held one of mine, and it tightened slightly. "I'd have gone after them myself," he said softly after a moment.

"I know."

He took a deep breath, then sighed. "This was probably better all around," he admitted. His fingers started stroking the back of my hand gently. "You were thinking clearly and did all the right things… Thanks, babe."

"Julia has a good head on her shoulders. She didn't need much help," I assured him. "I think she'd have been fine even if I hadn't been there."

By slow degrees some of the tension left his body. He shifted, turning toward me slightly, and his hand raised and slipped into my hair. "Will you stay tonight?"

I smiled. "Stay where, Ranger? There are five people in the apartment now, and only one bed and one sofa."

He leaned closer, his voice low, and whispered the words against my forehead. "We can use one of the apartments downstairs."

"Okay." I tucked my face against his neck and leaned into him. I really didn't want to drive home, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 5

I felt him tense slightly and straightened away from him, catching movement from the bedroom doorway out of the corner of my eye. Ranger got back to his feet. I followed suit and felt his hand settle against the small of my back.

Julia's mother came out of the bedroom, eyes over-bright with unshed tears. "She _is_ fine. I can't believe it—there's not a scratch on her." She walked up to us and reached both hands out to Ranger. He held one hand out to her, keeping the other around me. She took his hand in both of hers and kissed it in what seemed to be an old and familiar gesture of affection, and then turned toward me.

It was hard to keep my eyebrows from climbing up my forehead. Julia's mother – Ranger's ex-wife -- was nothing like I'd imagined. She was small, I'd been right about that, but there it ended. She wasn't Hispanic; her hair was so light a brown it was almost blonde. Her eyes were a tawny golden brown. She was mixed race, most certainly, but more like Hawaiian or Native American than Hispanic. She was pretty but not remarkable. Only her smile stood out.

"This is Stephanie? The one who saved Julia?" She turned her smile on me.

I jumped in before Ranger could speak. "I didn't really save her. She pretty much saved herself. I just brought her here."

She gripped my arm then let go with a cry when she realized it was all scratched up. "You are injured?"

"It's nothing. I fell into a rosebush this morning." I felt Ranger's silent chuckle.

"Steph, this is Sasha Martin, Julia's mother. Sasha, meet Stephanie Plum."

Sasha frowned slightly. "Stephanie Plum. I know that name."

Crap. Please tell me that the papers in Miami have never picked up the stupid newspaper articles from Trenton. I held my breath, hoping.

"The Bombshell Bounty Hunter of Trenton, New Jersey," the second man quoted softly as he came up behind Sasha and slipped his arm around her. She let go of Ranger's hand and leaned back into her husband's arms.

"Steph, this is Eric Martin, Sasha's husband." Ranger finished the introductions and Eric smiled and offered his hand.

I shook politely. "The newspaper article was greatly exaggerated. The funeral home burned down, but it wasn't me." It was Grandma Mazur, actually. She'd fired a shot into a crate of stolen ammo and it had all gone downhill from there. Ranger was grinning and I shot him a glare. He responded with a one-armed hug.

"These things just seem to happen whenever Stephanie's around. She's actually very good at what she does."

Sasha was giving me a measuring look, and it made me nervous. I shifted slightly, hoping Ranger would get us out of here soon. Sasha was very wound up right now, but her eyes looked tired and I suspected she'd start crashing soon. Eric looked a little wilted, too.

Ranger's ESP was working fine. "You can stay in this apartment. We'll be downstairs. Press Intercom-5 on the phone if you need anything; it will connect you to the control room. They can get you anything you want. You can call me if you need me." There was a soft knock on the door and Ranger went to open it. Tank came in carrying luggage. He sat three pieces down and raised an eyebrow slightly at Ranger about a fourth. "Leave it. I'll get it. Thanks, Tank." Tank nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Eric moved toward what was obviously their luggage, and Ranger looked at me, then down at my feet.

"Where are your shoes, Babe?"

I had to think. I'd taken off my shoes and socks before I'd climbed on the bed to dry Julia's hair. "Bedroom. I'll just be a second." I made a quick dash to the bedroom for my shoes, dodging into the dressing room first to grab a pair of socks and another set of underwear and stuffed them into my shoes.

Ranger gave me a questioning look when I came back carrying my shoes hugged against my chest, but he didn't say anything. I grabbed the shirts and my purse from under the kitchen bar and met him at the door.

He picked up his duffel in one hand and opened the door with the other, inclining his head for me to go through first. I did. The tile on the floor was cold against my feet, and I was pretty sure the floor of the elevator was metal. It wasn't that far, I could surely be tough long enough to make it to the fourth floor barefooted.

Ranger pressed the elevator button and looked at me, shaking his head slightly and giving me that half-smile.

"Here," he said, handing me his duffle. It wasn't heavy, and I took it automatically, without thinking. I should have known – would have known if I'd thought. As it was, I gave a squeak of surprise when he scooped me up.

"What are you doing? You don't need to carry me, I'm not that big of a baby."

"I know you aren't. But your feet are going to be like ice by the time we get to the apartment."

"So? I'll live." The elevator door opened and he stepped in.

"Maybe I don't want you freezing _me_ with them."

I blushed and he laughed, and his eyes warmed in a way that was quickly becoming familiar. I tried to head him off. "You know there's a camera in here, and someone is watching," I warned. "Hell, they're probably _all_ watching. You can wait just five minutes…"

"No, I can't," he whispered, and his mouth took mine.

Okay, so once he's got his mouth on me I sort of forget the cameras. Sue me.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

_A/N: Sorry so short—the next one will be longer, I promise. I was trying to write while my husband and father-in-law were watching "We Were Soldiers". It was very hard to do this section while guns, blood and gore were going on full volume! LOL! Anyway, I especially want to thank those of you who've sent reviews. I read them all religiously; they keep me 'up' for writing. I'd like to answer them all individually but I never have enough time. So, THANKS!_

Chapter 6

He paused long enough to get us out of the elevator on the fourth floor, and carried me to the door of 4B.

"You can put me down now. There's carpet here."

He let my feet down but kept his arm around me, opening the door one-handed and ushering me in ahead of him. It was the same apartment I'd been in before. I took a few more steps and dropped my stuff on the tiled floor of the kitchen area.

"Is this apartment always empty now, or do you keep kicking someone out?"

"We use it for temporary housing. New guys coming in, people visiting, sometimes as a safe house."

His tone of voice had changed, and I turned to look at him. He advanced on me and the expression on his face made me feel the need to retreat. I frowned in confusion. What was wrong?

"Where are you hurt?"

"What?" How could he possibly know?

"There's a bruise under your jaw, you're wearing my shirt, and your purse left blood on the kitchen floor upstairs. Now, where are you hurt?"

I knew better than try to hedge with Ranger. I sighed and turned slightly, lifting the bottom of the shirt to show him the bandage.

"It isn't serious. It's only a graze."

He wasn't satisfied until he checked under the gauze pad himself. He smoothed the tape back down with gentle fingers, which tickled, and his lips quirked when I squirmed.

"It seems to me that you left something out of your story," he said a moment later when he tilted my head up to look at the forming bruise.

"Um…the guy had a gun?"

He kissed the bruise gently, then shifted closer and kissed my neck. My arms went around his waist automatically, pulling his body closer to mine. His arms encircled me, holding me tightly but careful of my wound. We stood like that for several long minutes.

"I missed you," he whispered as he pressed his face against my hair. "I realized after I was in the air that if I'd asked, you'd have come with me to Miami. You'd have helped me try to find Julia. I'm sorry I didn't think to ask."

"It's okay. You were only thinking of Julia. I understand."

His arms tightened until I almost couldn't breathe. Something was still wrong, and I had no idea what. All I could do was hold him and wait for him to tell me.

"They were going to kill her. They wanted to make it look like I'd kidnapped her, then kill her in front of the bonds office. If you hadn't been there--"

"But I was." I didn't even want him to continue that thought. "Julia's okay. She's incredibly smart, thinks on her feet, and she's beautiful. She's a lot like you."

I felt him sigh, and his arms relaxed as some of the tension left him. His lips were seeking the skin of my cheek, nuzzling at my hair. "It scares me sometimes, how close I came to never meeting you," he whispered softly.

"What?"

He drew back slightly, enough for me to see his face, his eyes on mine. "That first day, when Connie asked me to meet you and get you started skip tracing… I was busy; there were three places I needed to be that afternoon and nowhere near enough time. I almost blew it off. But I owed Connie, so I kept the appointment. I'm so glad I did."

"Me, too," I said, smiling into his eyes. "I can't imagine the past few years without you."

He kissed me then, gently at first, then with growing heat. Slow, deep kisses filled with such tenderness that I couldn't help but melt against him.

I don't remember moving, or how or when our clothes disappeared. The next thing I knew Ranger was lifting me onto the bed, following me down, covering my body with his own.

His kisses were tender, his touch soft and gentle. I realized that this wasn't about pleasure – it was about love. Expressed not with words but with tender kisses and caresses, closeness and caring.

It wasn't the first time I'd glimpsed Ranger's emotions through his actions, but it was the most poignant. His tenderness had me in tears by the time we found release. Neither one of us spoke, but he held me close as we drifted into sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 7

I was alone when I woke up. Ranger had left a note, though. He was getting better about that.

_Julia has an appointment to finish her statement this morning at 11. We will meet Morellli at the station, and he said an FBI guy will probably be sitting in. He said to remind you they need your statement, too._

_Call me. _

_R._

I checked the clock by the bed. It was after nine, but that was okay. I got up and rummaged in the bathroom drawer for a new toothbrush and brushed my teeth, then I came back and sat on the bed to call Ranger.

"Yo."

"Good morning. I didn't mean to sleep so late."

He chuckled. "You were tired. So was I. I only got up about an hour ago, and I'm pretty sure no one is awake on the seventh floor yet. I'm going to have to do a wake-up call. How's your side?"

"Not too bad. It's kind of stiff and sore."

"It's worse when it's a place you bend. They're not so bad on an arm or leg."

"I'll take your word for it. Should I go to the station with you, or just go in by myself?"

"Either one."

"I'll drive myself, then. I have some errands I want to run first."

"I'll catch up with you later."

We hung up. I looked around for my clothes and found new ones laid out for me across the recliner. And I mean a new outfit, as in from the skin out. There was a new Victoria's Secret set in cream satin with lace trim, a new pair of jeans in the brand that actually fit me best, and a pretty peasant-style shirt that would float away from my waist, avoiding contact with the bandage. There was even a new pair of socks.

Yesterday's clothes were gone, too, even the underwear and socks from my shoes. I wasn't all that surprised the sweatshirt and tank were missing; not after he'd spotted the blood. My purse had been wiped clean.

Shaking my head at his extravagance, I took a quick shower and got dressed. Everything fit perfectly.

My first stop was the bank to deposit my check. My balance was starting to look pretty good. Every month I managed to have a little more left over after expenses, which was nice. I was slowly building a nest egg to cushion me for those weeks nothing seemed to go right. I made a quick stop to get a donut and coffee to go at the bakery, called my apartment to check my answering machine, and then I headed to the police station.

Ranger, Julia, Sasha and Eric were all there, in the largest of the interview rooms. Joe and another man I assumed was FBI were sitting at the table with Julia, and Sasha and Eric were sitting beside her. They were all looking better today. Julia's eyes were bright and her expression more animated as she told Joe the events of the day she'd been kidnapped. The Martins were quiet but in a good way, letting Julia talk without distraction but being right with her for moral support.

The door had been left ajar, and Ranger was leaning against the wall just inside. Although I thought I'd been quiet, he turned his head and held his hand out for me to join him as soon as I'd gotten close. I did my best to slip in without disturbing them.

I stood next to Ranger and listened to Julia describe the inside of the van and the two men who'd taken her. How long they'd driven between stops and each day, and how she'd figured out how to unplug wires from the taillights, hoping for a traffic stop.

Except for using a stun gun to get her out of the museum, the kidnappers hadn't hurt her. She'd been given food and water, and bathroom breaks, but kept tied up most of the time. She'd been frightened and watching for any chance to escape, but hadn't realized they planned to kill her until just before that last stop when one man had produced and loaded a gun – but her dad's friend Stephanie had prevented that and saved her.

Joe frowned at me at the mention of the gun. I guess I left that part out last night.

The Fed asked a few questions to Julia about the actual abduction – how they'd gotten to her, specifically. She'd been on a school tour to the museum.

She'd gone to the bathroom with her friend and school-trip partner. On the way back a guard had told them their group had gone on, and they'd headed where he'd pointed. Another man was waiting on the other side of the doorway with the stun gun. They'd taken Julia, and she wasn't sure what had happened to her friend.

At this point Ranger stepped forward and dropped a CD in a plastic sleeve onto the table.

"This is a copy of the museum surveillance tapes. It all happened in full view of the cameras. They stunned the other girl and left her on the floor." He gave his daughter a reassuring look. "She's okay, just upset."

A few questions later they were finished with Julia, and Carl Costanza came to take her to the break room for a soda while they interviewed the Martins.

I felt a little out of place, being in the room while Julia's mother and stepfather answered questions, but no one seemed to expect me or Ranger to leave. I guess Eric and Sasha didn't have a problem with it, either.

Yes, they'd had threats, many times. None of them sounded any different from the pranks and empty threats they usually turned out to be. Until the school called about a hysterical teacher and a missing Julia.

They left next, going to join Julia and Carl. Joe gave me a look and Ranger took my elbow and steered me into a seat at the table. He sat beside me.

"Steph, it seems you left something out when you told me what happened last night," Joe said.

"Several things," Ranger added helpfully.

I frowned at him but he ignored me.

Joe was getting his cop-face, and I sighed. They wouldn't be happy until they got everything, so I gave in.

"Start from the top, Steph. What caught your attention about the van?"

Would they believe my 'spidey sense' was tingling? I took a deep breath and told them everything. Both of them frowned when they realized I'd gotten punched, and Joe's lips thinned when I got to the part where I realized I'd been grazed, but no one interrupted me. When I was done the Fed asked a couple of questions, then he picked up his notebook and recorder and left.

As soon as the door shut, Joe asked Ranger, "How bad was she hit?"

"Graze on the left side just above the hip. Deep but no penetration."

"Hey, I'm right here. Don't talk like I can't hear you," I griped. "I'm fine."

Joe came around and tilted my head up with his fingers under my chin, studying my bruise. It wasn't bad, and makeup had made it almost invisible.

I didn't like being the center of attention like this.

"How old is Julia?" I asked Ranger. "I know she was nine when you told me you had a daughter but I've lost track."

"She turns eleven tomorrow."

"She's a sharp kid," Joe said. He gathered his paper and recorder and started for the door. "Well, I've got lots of paperwork to do. Tell Julia I said 'happy birthday' – and make sure Stephanie gets that graze looked at."

And he left.

Ranger stood and gave me his hand, tugging me up out of my chair. We headed out, meeting the others on the way.

"Dad," Julia rushed up to Ranger and flung her arms around his waist. "Did I do okay?"

"You did great," he reassured her with a smile, returning her hug. "We're all very proud of you."

She grinned up at him for a minute more, then let go and turned to me.

"Ms. Plum, my mom and I would like to take you to lunch to thank you for saving me. Please?"

I looked up at Sasha and she smiled. Ranger gave me no signs. I looked back down at Julia. "Lunch sounds good, Julia, thank you. But I didn't really save you, I just helped. And you can call me Stephanie."

Sasha stepped forward. "I'm not very familiar with Trenton, Stephanie, so I'm hoping you can suggest a place to eat?"

Where to suggest? Someplace nice, a dive with good food? Ranger stepped in smoothly and helped me out.

"Rossini's would be good. Take the Cayenne," he offered as he passed me his key. "I'll drive your Jeep back to the apartment. You can pick it up when you bring them back."

"Thanks," I told him, meaning both suggestions. He nodded, gave Julia a smile, and took Eric with him as he left. Sasha was watching them leave with interest.

"You didn't give him a key to your car," she remarked.

"He doesn't need one," I said simply. And we headed out to find the Cayenne in the lot.


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 8

Lunch was surprisingly comfortable, and the food was excellent. Julia did a lot of the talking but Sasha was warm and friendly. It quickly became clear that she was nearly as curious about me as I was about her, and just as determined to be polite.

Julia, bless her, was less reserved.

"Officer Carl said he was sort of related to you," she said leadingly as soon as we'd ordered.

I obliged. "Yes, he's married to my cousin, Shirley."

"He says you're a bounty hunter, and that sometimes you work with my dad."

"Sometimes I help your dad. Mostly he helps me, because I'm not really a very good bounty hunter."

"Carl said you are. He says you're famous, and nearly every cop in Trenton knows you."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. I couldn't say it wasn't true because I actually do have a degree of fame -- I've lost count of the number of times I've made the front page through some disaster or other, and cops I've never met place bets on when my next car will explode. Should I say it's because I seem to attract trouble? I'm accident-prone?

"I grew up here. I know lots of people from school and family and different jobs," I hedged. Then I changed the subject entirely, asking Julia about her school, what classes she liked, who her friends were.

She went to public school, which surprised me a little given her family's occupations. It must have shown on my face because Sasha gave me an explanation.

"Like it or not, Eric and I are in politics. How could we make creditable arguments about public education if we had Julia in a private school?"

"My school is really good," Julia added. "We have sports, of course, but we also have art and music classes. My art and music teachers are working together on a musical we're going to do on parents' night, with singing and stuff besides just acting so everyone can have a part in it. We are already working on painting the walls for the stage in art class. Do you know how _hard_ it is to paint a door that really _looks_ like a door?"

"No, I don't." I had to smile. Across the table Sasha was smiling but had tears glittering in her eyes as she watched Julia animatedly describing the process. I had an idea what she was feeling. Julia's kidnapping could have had a tragic ending, and this beautiful girl would have been lost. I shook it off determinedly. "So, is art your favorite subject?"

"Well, I don't know. I kinda like most of the stuff at school. Art and music, sure, but Mom is really good at math and she helps me sometimes. Eric likes history and he can make it sound really interesting. And Dad says school is kind of like a tool that teaches us _how_ to learn, because we keep learning stuff for the rest of our lives. Of course, _he_ doesn't get graded on what he learns!"

I laughed, as did Sasha, but I thought to myself that a lot of what Ranger did could be considered pass/fail – and failing meant someone could get killed. I'd rather get a grade.

Julia continued with little prompting, telling me about her friends at school. The other girl who'd been stunned during her abduction was her best friend, and she'd been very relieved to find out she was okay. She had piano lessons after school and was getting pretty good although she really wanted to learn guitar like her dad, and next year she was going to take dancing lessons so she wouldn't feel like a moron at high-school dances.

I hated to burst her bubble, but nearly everyone feels like a moron at high-school dances. And most kids didn't really dance anymore, they just sort of shuffle and sway. Ranger knew how to dance, though… Wait a minute – Ranger plays guitar?

Julia turned to ask her mom if they would be able to stay a few days before going home and back to school, and I lost my chance to backtrack to the subject of guitar-playing ex-special forces dads. _Darn!_

Sasha gently reminded Julia that there were only a few more weeks of school left, and she'd have the summer to plan for. As a consolation for having to return home soon, we ordered a couple of Rossini's famous desserts to share.

The plates were all empty, I was stuffed and smiling. My lunch with Ranger's daughter and ex hadn't turned out to be the inquisition I'd feared. I'd relaxed a bit too soon, however. Sasha was signing the charge slip for the check when Julia dropped the bomb I'd dreaded.

"Are you my dad's girlfriend?"

_Shit!_ I froze, seized up, couldn't think of a single thing to say for several long panicked moments. Julia was waiting expectantly, and across the table Sasha was trying to hide a smile.

"I'm sorry, Stephanie," she said a moment later, when she got the grin under control. "Although Julia is quite close to her father, I'm afraid Carlos doesn't tell us much about his personal life. She got up talking about you this morning, about how you recognized her and called Carlos on his cell. He doesn't give that number out to very many people."

I wondered why it bugged me that Sasha called him Carlos. Maybe because he'd told me his family called him Rico? It made me wonder when he and Sasha had met. I'd thought maybe they'd been in high school together.

They were both waiting for my answer. And there was no way I was going to even try to explain our arrangement, and what the hell would we call it anyway?

What would Ranger say?

Inspiration struck and I saw a way out. I gave them both a small smile and shrugged.

"You'll have to ask him."


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note: I apologize for the long wait for the last chapter. Just after I posted chapter 8, JE's TWELVE SHARP came out, and I bought it and read it. Needless to say, a few eerie similarities pretty much freaked me out! I have racked my brain for an explanation but all I can come up with is just weird coincidence. I finally decided to just go ahead & finish my story (and yes, I have more sequels planned, but they follow my plot line, not TWELVE SHARP's) and not worry too much about it._

_Let me know what you think…!_

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 9

The ride back to the RangeMan building was quiet. Julia was nearly asleep, and Sasha looked like she could take a nap, too. It was fine with me. I was having second thoughts about my smart-ass comeback to Julia's question. Would she really ask Ranger if I was his girlfriend? Would she say I told her to ask him? Was Ranger going to make me pay for it?

I buzzed the gate open and parked the Cayenne in its regular spot. My Jeep waited in my slot, and I gave it a longing look. For a few minutes I thought about sending the Cayenne key up with them and just taking off, but that wouldn't be very nice. Besides, Ranger knew where I lived and my apartment locks have _never_ kept him out.

We trooped into the elevator but before the door could close Tank appeared. From the faint smell of gunpowder that clung to him, I guessed he'd come from the small firing range off the garage.

"Going up?" I asked, and he stepped in with a faint grin.

"Fifth floor," he said.

"Big guys in bad-ass black," I said as the doors closed, doing my best impression of Mrs. Besler.

Tank got it because he grinned. "Don't start that sh-stuff here. Lester will pick it up and we'll never hear the end of it." Then he nodded to the others. "Hello, Sasha. Julia, I heard you went on a little road trip and met Bombshell. You doin' okay?"

"Yes, sir. Stephanie saved me."

I rolled my eyes a little, careful not to let Sasha or Julia see me. "I just provided the distraction. Sound familiar?"

Tank chuckled, the doors opened onto the fifth floor and he stepped off. "See you later, Steph."

I hit the remote to take us up to the seventh floor apartment.

"Bombshell?" Sasha repeated questioningly.

I sighed. Somehow I knew we couldn't make it up to the apartment without one of them asking, although I'd thought it would be Julia.

"It's kind of a long story, but to put it in a nutshell I have bad luck with cars. Some reporter stuck me with that nickname because of it."

Sasha's eyebrows went up but she didn't ask anything else. Maybe she remembered something, or maybe she remembered Eric had called me that, too, and she'd ask him. Either one was fine with me as long as I didn't have to explain.

I knocked when we reached the apartment door. Julia gave me a curious look but didn't say anything about me having my own key, which I appreciated. Eric opened the door.

"Hello again, Stephanie. I hope you all enjoyed your lunch?"

"Lunch was good, but dessert was the best!" Julia told him with a big smile. "We shared cheesecake and tira-- tira--"

"Tiramisu," I supplied.

"Yeah, Stephanie says that's her favorite right after pineapple upside-down cake. Have you ever had an upside-down cake?"

Eric looked thoughtful. "My mom made it sometimes, but it's been years since I've had it. Was it on the dessert menu?"

"No," Julia said, sounding slightly disappointed.

"My mom makes it," I found myself saying. "She has a special recipe that no one else knows. I'll have to get her to write it down for me someday." I ran out of things to say and stood there feeling slightly awkward. I decided to cut and run. "Thanks for lunch, Sasha, Julia. I enjoyed it, and meeting all of you."

"The pleasure was ours," Eric said. "If you're ever in Miami, please come to visit. You will always be welcome."

What should I say to that? I was saved by the ringing of my cell.

"Hello?"

"Meet me in the garage," Ranger's voice said, and he hung up.

Just this once, I didn't mind the abruptness.

"Sorry, I need to go," I smiled at the three of them. "Take care, and have a safe trip home."

I felt a little guilty for feeling so relieved to be going. Then, about halfway down in the elevator, I wondered what Ranger wanted. Meeting in the garage had several possibilities. One, the gun range and target practice, which he was known to make me do on occasion. Two, he wanted me to go with him somewhere. Or three, that he'd known I'd feel the need for an excuse to leave and was just providing it.

He was leaning against the Porsche, waiting. I guess that meant door number two.

I slid into the seat while he held the door, buckling my seatbelt as he went around and got in. "Where are we going?"

"To have a doctor check out your graze," he answered, having waited until he was pulling into traffic so I wouldn't try to hop out of the car. "Just a precaution, babe."

"I don't want to go to the hospital," I balked.

"No hospital," he agreed. "This is a private practice."

He wasn't kidding about the private part. This doctor's office wasn't like any I'd ever seen before. It was in one of the high-rises downtown and the reception area looked more like a lawyer's office. There were no crying kids, no sniffling adults in the waiting area. There was only one person in it, a man in a dark suit with an air of watchfulness around him that I'd found common among Ranger's men. A bodyguard, or someone ex-special forces of some kind, I guessed.

Ranger spoke briefly to the receptionist and we were ushered into a room that again looked more like a lawyer's office than a doctor's. Then a door opened from the adjoining room and a doctor complete with a white coat and stethoscope stepped in.

Okay, _this_ guy looked like a doctor. In fact, he looked like the pediatrician I'd adored as a child. He was an older man, gray-haired but well-groomed and friendly-looking. His face lit up with a smile as he caught sight of Ranger.

"Ah, Ranger! I was surprised to get your call. I hope it's not you who needs my services today."

"No. I've brought you a new patient. Dr. James, this is Stephanie Plum. She got grazed yesterday and I wanted to bring her in to make sure it's okay."

"Ms. Plum, yes, I've followed your adventures in the newspapers. I'm happy to meet you at last."

"Thank you, Dr. James. But don't believe everything you read in the paper. I almost never blow anything up."

Dr. James chuckled. "I understand completely. Now, where is this wound? Do you need to change so I can look at it?"

Fortunately not. The new jeans were a little lower in the waist than the ones I'd worn yesterday, and the loose top was easy to get out of the way. I followed the doctor into the room he'd arrived from and found a room full of state-of-the-art medical equipment that looked like it could handle anything from minor emergencies to full-scale surgery. At his gesture, I hopped up on the table and raised the hem of my shirt to expose the bandage.

Ranger stepped up behind me and helped get the back of the shirt out of the way while Dr. James rolled over a covered tray and pulled on gloves. I didn't even have time to flinch when the doctor reached over and ripped the bandage off. I gasped, and behind me Ranger chuckled.

Dr. James reached overhead without looking and grabbed a light. It was one of those multi-jointed things that somehow stayed wherever you put them, defying gravity and all forms of Murphy's Law. He got it positioned where he wanted it and turned it on, then made a distracted humming sound.

"Wearing black when it happened?" he asked casually, and I nodded reluctantly. If he knew that it probably meant it wasn't completely clean. Damn.

He had me lay down so he could see better – probably also so I'd be less likely to faint on him – and got down to business. He sprayed the raw scrape with something that stung for a couple of seconds, but when he used tweezer-looking things to pull several bits of black thread out of it I didn't feel anything. The wash he used after that stung some, but it wasn't bad.

The whole thing took very little time, and when I sat back up he gave me a small paper bag containing the antiseptic wash, salve, bandages, and clear bandage protective strips to use for when I showered for a few more days. I thought they looked a lot like giant cellophane tape, only waterproof. After about four days, he told me, it would probably be okay to go uncovered in the shower, and a bandage would only be necessary if something was rubbing the area.

I thanked the doctor, who smiled and shook my hand again, and then he left through another door. Ranger came around the table and took the bag, then offered his hand to steady me as I slid off the table to my feet. I wasn't dizzy, but I took his hand anyway. He got that almost-smile amused look on his face and squeezed my fingers slightly, and we left.

Once we were back in the Turbo I thanked Ranger for bringing me to Dr. James.

"He's good, he's private, and he's discreet. He's also choosy about his patients. If you look, there's probably a card in the bag. He isn't listed anywhere, and if he doesn't like someone he won't give them a way to contact him. He liked you."

I looked, and he was right. The card was plain white with black embossed letters. It read only Arlin James, with a phone number printed beneath. No logos, titles, or address on the card. Very discreet.

"Keep it. If you ever need him again, he'll take good care of you."

"I don't have medical insurance."

"You don't need it."

I gave him a look at his cryptic comment, and he grinned.

"No paperwork, no paper trails. He's not in it for the money, Babe."

Oh, that made it all clear…NOT! What, was Ranger picking up my tab with the doctor? Does the doctor take payment in something other than money? Is he independently wealthy? But I knew from experience that Ranger had said all he was going to say, so I dropped the subject and tucked the card into an inner pocket of my wallet.

For several minutes we rode in silence. Then my conscience started giving me trouble, and after a couple more minutes during which I started squirming in my seat, I caved.

"Um, Ranger? I have a confession to make…"

We were near a shopping center; Ranger turned in and stopped the car, turning toward me expectantly. He had a blank face on, and I wondered what he thought I was going to say.

"You don't like Julia," he said, and his voice sounded hollow. Well, now I know he had some worries about our lunch date, too.

"Julia is wonderful. I even like Sasha and Eric."

His face relaxed, then he frowned slightly. "Then what's bothering you?"

Better to just say it. "Well, right at the end of lunch, Julia asked me if I was your girlfriend. I didn't know how to answer that, so I told her she'd have to ask you."

Ranger did something very uncharacteristic… He opened his mouth, closed it, then looked perplexed and gave a short laugh.

"Okay, I see your point. To me, you're much more than a girlfriend, but with Joe… There's no easy explanation."

"That was my problem," I said, relieved he understood. "I took the easy way out. But I decided I should warn you, in case she actually does ask."

He smiled. "Oh, believe me, Julia will ask."

"What will you tell her?"

He put the car back in gear before he answered, a rueful half-smile on his face. "Truthfully? No idea. But I'll think of something."

Back at the RangeMan building I said goodbye in the garage and hopped in my Jeep, heading for home. Julia's innocent question had brought something to my attention, and I needed some alone-time to figure out how to deal with it. Because it finally occurred to me that although my mother had to know I was dating both Ranger and Morelli - the 'Burg grapevine would have gleefully kept her informed of each time I'd been seen with one of them - she hadn't brought it up. Neither had my grandmother. It was definitely not normal behavior for either one of them, and sooner or later they were going to want answers.

I needed to decide what those answers would be.

Damn, and just when things were going so well…

End of "Lost & Found"


End file.
